


in the pursuit of happiness

by storyop



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, also is it weird that i literally made seohyun up for the sake of this fic, but i'm lowkey in love with her, does this count as canon fic, it totally does, this fic made me do so much math omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 08:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15926222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyop/pseuds/storyop
Summary: it takes years and a woman, but kyungsoo and chanyeol eventually get their happy ending.





	in the pursuit of happiness

**Author's Note:**

> for jonghyun

  
  
  
  
  


Each one of his days begins the same way. He’s not as overworked now, but when he’s busy, he’s  _ busy _ , schedule dotted with filmings and radio shows and interviews. He smiles through all of it the way he was trained to do since he was sixteen years old and comes home to an empty bed every night.

It doesn’t matter. Home is no longer as familiar a concept to Kyungsoo, not the way it was back when he shared his space with eight other boys, all of them pretending to men. All with their toothpaste brands and bickering about the most menial things, really, like  _ Where did you put the mayonnaise? _ and  _ Why’d you put the toilet seat down?  _ and  _ What’s going to happen after we all go our separate directions? _ That hadn’t been something they’d thought about until they were forced to, and they’d still somehow managed to side-step it. But it really doesn’t matter. 

Kyungsoo gets up at three in the morning. He eats his breakfast and takes a shower and knots his tie in silence. Ten years ago he would’ve heard the jiggle of the bathroom doorknob and known that Baekhyun had stolen a pair of chopsticks and was about to slip in, towel in hand, whining about Kyungsoo needing to scrub his back. He would’ve done it. He would’ve worked on Baekhyun’s back as Baekhyun had blabbered about schedules and putting milk in ramen and how Jongin was spending too much time in the studio and would end up hurting himself again. 

He locks the door behind him. The hallway is empty but for him and the red patterned carpet underneath his black shoes. He checks his watch — it’s old, almost a decade old, but Sehun had given it to him for his twenty-fifth birthday and he hasn’t taken it off since he found it in his bottom drawer half a year ago — as he gets into the elevator. He has a press conference today, then a photoshoot, and then he has to come back home and prep a script. 

They’d started with video calls, he thinks on the drive there. They’d started with video calls and then it had become too hard to find a time that fit all their differing schedules. Yixing had flown back to China. Junmyeon had started doing work in the States. Baekhyun had gone to Paris to further his work on Privé. The video calls had stopped. Eventually the texts had stopped too, but Kyungsoo hasn’t been able to bring himself to delete their old group chat from his phone. 

EXO had done so much, he muses. They’d set records and broken them, survived losing a fourth of their numbers, and performed at the Winter Olympics. But what they couldn’t do was stay in touch. 

He checks the date.  _ March 26 _ , it says.  _ March 26 _ .  _ March 26. March 26 _ . He opens his messages and scrolls down to the very end, to the one that reads  _ EXO 사랑하자!!!  _ His thumb hovers it; how easy it would be, how simple, to just wish Minseok a happy birthday. Two words. 

Kyungsoo slides his phone back in his pocket and steps out of the car.

  
  
  
  


“Please welcome the nation’s leading actor, Do Kyungsoo!” Kyungsoo bows his head slightly. “Kyungsoo-ssi, you’ve done a variety of genres in your years of acting, from noir to romantic comedy. What influences your decisions in terms of picking the movie or drama that feels right for you?”

This is a question he has rehearsed for. He picks up the mic and gives them the answer they want to hear. Beside him, his co-star Jiwoo fidgets slightly. Several cameras flash. He tells them it’s more of a gut feeling than a conscious choice, and that it hasn’t led him astray yet so he’s learned to trust it.

They back and forth for what feels like forever. His co-stars get questions. He gets more questions. They crack jokes. He doesn’t hate this, far from it, but for almost five years now something vital has been missing. He just feels disconnected from it all, feels as though he’s floating through it until he meets the inevitable end. 

“Now for the really important question,” he hears. “Next month will be five years since the fateful announcement that EXO would be going their separate ways, regrettably a year before their ten-year mark. You have clearly come a long way since your idol days, but we’re sure that EXO still holds an importance in your heart. How do you feel knowing that this anniversary is approaching?”

Kyungsoo has not rehearsed for this. His hand tightens around his mic; he can feel his fingers starting to shake. More cameras. A bead of sweat rolls down the back of his neck. 

“I,” he says, as smoothly as he can, “miss EXO, of course. I’d spend a considerable portion of my life making music with my members, and I wouldn’t give it up for the world.” He feels a little faint. “That being said, we’ve all propelled our careers further after having gone different directions, and the disbandment allowed us to explore avenues we wouldn’t necessarily have been able to do so as a group. Both eras of our lives have equal importance, I think.” 

“Do you still keep in touch with them?”

“Absolutely,” Kyungsoo lies. “We communicate on an almost daily basis. In fact, today is Minseok hyung’s birthday.” He arranges his fingers into a heart and hopes his smile doesn’t look too fake. “Happy birthday, Minseokkie hyung!” 

The room echoes the sentiment. Kyungsoo hasn’t seen Minseok face to face in three years. 

  
  
  
  


He flips through channels lazily, sitting on the floor in front of his bed eating Chinese food in nothing but a robe and slippers. Kibum is MC for MCountdown again, and he’s introducing SM’s latest girl group, DAY-Z. His hair is the color of a ripe avocado; apparently hitting the thirty mark hasn’t lessened his inclination towards wild hairstyles in the slightest. It almost makes Kyungsoo smile. 

SHINee are still around, because of course they are. Kyungsoo has doubted many things over the years, but not for a second does he doubt that the world will end before SHINee do. He changes the channel and settles on a re-run of Two Cops. 

He’s twirling noodles around his fork when his phone starts ringing. He picks it up, but it’s an unknown number, so he doesn’t bother answering. Until they call back. Twice.

“Hello?” he says.

“Kyungsoo?” 

He drops his fork. 

“Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol says again. “Are you there?”

He makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. 

“It’s me,” Chanyeol says. “Ch—”

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says. “Chanyeol.” He can’t stop saying his name. When was the last time he’d spoken Chanyeol’s name aloud? “Chanyeol.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says with a nervous little laugh. “Yeah, it’s me.” 

“You… changed your number,” Kyungsoo says, biting down on his lip so hard he almost draws blood. He doesn’t know what to say, even though it’s  _ Chanyeol _ , and he’d always been close to Chanyeol. Always. 

“And you didn’t,” Chanyeol says. “How… how have you been doing? I’ve been… I’ve been watching your stuff. It’s good. As always.” 

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo says with a helpless little laugh. He presses his phone closer to his ear as though he can internalize Chanyeol’s voice through it. “I’m good. A little tired, but that’s to be expected. How’s the producing going?” 

“I love it,” Chanyeol says. “But I do miss being on stage and performing sometimes.” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says, soft, “I know what you mean.” 

There’s an awkward silence, even though Kyungsoo and Chanyeol don’t have awkward silences. They never have. 

“Um, actually,” Chanyeol says, “I called because… well, it’s Minseok hyung’s birthday today.” He pauses, and Kyungsoo nods, even though Chanyeol can’t see it. “We… I mean, we haven’t really been all that great about keeping in touch since… since that day, you know.” Kyungsoo nods again. “I just thought, you know, that I’d try and change that.” 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, licking his lips. 

“Plus,” Chanyeol stutters, “I want you to meet my girlfriend.” Another pause. “Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo can’t speak. He can’t even breathe. He hasn’t spoken to Chanyeol in years and when he does he’s happy and successful and has a girlfriend. Of course he does. 

“Sorry, I totally zoned out,” Kyungsoo says. “Yeah, that sounds great. I’d love to meet your girlfriend. I actually, um, have to go right now, so just text me and we can figure out a time that works for the both of us. Good?” 

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says. Kyungsoo closes his eyes. “Kyungsoo. I miss you.” 

He feels that ache in the back of his throat that means he’s going to cry. “I miss you, too, Chanyeol, but I really have to go. Bye.” 

He hangs up before Chanyeol can reply and sits there with his phone clenched in his hand. What color is Chanyeol’s hair? Does he still spend all his free time at the gym? What’s his girlfriend’s name? What does she look like? When did they start dating? Are they in love? 

They probably are, he thinks. Chanyeol falls in love easily. He falls as easily as he takes steps. If he wants Kyungsoo to meet her, then it’s probably serious. But is it serious enough for… marriage? He presses his hand to his mouth. They’re not young anymore; Chanyeol is turning thirty-five this year. It very well could be. 

It takes a long time for him to fall asleep that night, and when he does he dreams of Chanyeol kissing a faceless woman in a white veil. 

  
  
  
  


Kyungsoo had spent so much time  _ not _ thinking about Chanyeol that all of it hits him at once. He owes a lot to Chanyeol; no amount of pretending to be exasperated at his constant badgering or loud displays of affection could make him forget that. He’d been a really shy kid, and on top of that people were scared of him — sure, it made for funny stories to tell on variety shows, but it wasn’t like that hadn’t hurt Kyungsoo at the time. Chanyeol had been kind, or stupid, or most likely both, and he hadn’t let himself be intimidated by Kyungsoo’s need to glare to see. Kyungsoo remembers that during their trainee days the majority of the moments he’d laughed had been because of Chanyeol. 

They make plans to meet in a week. Kyungsoo’s not sure what he’s supposed to do for a week. He has a VLive today, but that’s it. 

“You look different,” Jiwoo tells him as her makeup artist touches up her eyeshadow. 

“Different how?”

“Like you were kissed,” she says, tilting her head, “and then punched in the face immediately afterward.” 

“That makes no sense,” Kyungsoo grumbles, ignoring how weirdly accurate the analogy is. 

He spends the rest of the week moping. Like eating ice cream out of the carton level moping. He’s not even sure why he feels so upset; he should be happy that one of his ex-members is making an effort to reach out. But everytime he thinks about Chanyeol’s mystery girlfriend he wants to actually punch himself in the face. Repeatedly. 

He knows exactly why that is, of course, but he pretends it’s just because he resents the fact that Chanyeol is in a happy relationship while he’s still so lonely. He loves Meokmul and Huchu, but they don’t really count.

  
  
  
  


Chanyeol’s hair is black. It’s a little unruly too, curling around his ears in a way that makes Kyungsoo want to put his hands in it and tug. He stands there in the doorway for the longest moment, staring at Kyungsoo until he can feel himself start to get uncomfortable.

“Um,” Kyungsoo says. “Hi?” 

“Oh.” Chanyeol steps back. “Hi, Kyungsoo. It’s just that you look… never mind.” 

This is so awkward. Kyungsoo wants to disappear, to just melt into the floor like he was never there in the first place. 

“Hello, Kyungsoo-ssi,” comes a woman’s voice, and Kyungsoo whips his head around to see — this is Chanyeol’s girlfriend? She’s just a hair taller than Kyungsoo. Big eyes. Shy smile. Kyungsoo wants desperately to hate her, but he can’t. 

“Please,” Kyungsoo says, “there’s no need to be quite so formal.” 

“This is Seohyun,” Chanyeol says. He’s looking at Kyungsoo like… like what? Like he’s expecting approval? “Seohyun, you know Kyungsoo, obviously.” 

“The nation’s leading actor,” Seohyun says with a little smile. “I’m a big fan.” 

“Ah, thank you,” Kyungsoo says. Floor. Hole. Him, swallowed. 

“I actually invited someone else,” Chanyeol says. “You might be happy to see him. He’ll be here soon.” As if on cue, the doorbell rings. “I got it!” 

Kyungsoo knows that voice. He knows it like the back of his hand. He knows it like the slide of soap against shoulders. 

“Baekhyun,” he murmurs, before he’s being engulfed in a hug. 

“Boy, did I miss you,” Baekhyun says. “I haven’t had my back properly scrubbed in fucking forever.” He notices Seohyun. “Wow… hi. You must be Chanyeol’s girlfriend. He’s a lucky guy.” 

“Thank you,” Seohyun says, blushing. 

Kyungsoo starts to laugh. “You haven’t changed at all, have you?” 

“Actually,” Baekhyun replies, “I think I did get, like, half a centimeter taller.”

Kyungsoo snorts, ignoring the way Chanyeol is staring at him like he’s never fucking seen him laugh before. “Right, and I’m an inmyeonjo.”

“Better inmyeonjo than samdugumi.” Baekhyun really hasn’t changed. There’s a bit more fullness to his cheeks and his hair is red, but he’s still Baekhyun. Still a little too loud and a little too quick on his feet. Kyungsoo feels his skin and heart and bones get one step closer to knitting themselves back together. 

“Alright,” Chanyeol says abruptly. They both turn to look at him. Kyungsoo watches him settle an arm around Seohyun’s shoulders and pull her closer to his body. “We should eat. Seohyun and I cooked.” He looks right at Kyungsoo when he says, “Seohyun is a wonderful cook.” 

“Chan _ yeol _ ,” Seohyun says. 

Kyungsoo smiles thinly. Of course she is. Chanyeol has always wanted someone who could cook with him. 

Baekhyun and Kyungsoo help the two of them set the table. Seohyun is very quiet, but when she does say something it’s either funny or insightful. Despite himself, Kyungsoo warms up to her quickly; he can see why Chanyeol likes her so much. It doesn’t hurt that she’s beautiful, either. 

As the four of them are finishing up, Chanyeol pulls Kyungsoo aside. “Soo,” he says a touch anxiously, “do you like her?”

There it is. Kyungsoo sneaks a glance at her; Baekhyun says something that makes her laugh and her eyes curve into little crescent moons. 

“Yes,” he says, smiling. He puts a hand on Chanyeol’s arm. “She’s wonderful, Chanyeol. She’ll be very good for you.” 

Chanyeol beams. 

  
  
  
  


A few months after debut when their promotions had died down somewhat — Kyungsoo still remembers with startling clarity that it… hadn’t been anything special; how many times had they been called SM’s first flops? — he and Chanyeol had participated in a cook-off, hosted and referee’d by a tired looking Junmyeon and an overly eager Kris. They had tied, of course, because Kyungsoo and Chanyeol always ended up tying. But at least they and the rest of EXO had gotten something good to eat out of it. 

A month afterward was a karaoke battle. It was simple; whoever knew the most songs (and could sing at least a verse of them) won. What they hadn’t counted on was the fact that Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s music tastes aligned so closely it was practically impossible for one of them to recognize a song the other didn’t. They’d cycled through 먼지가 되어 and 응급실 and Geeks’ arrangement of  _ Officially Missing You _ before calling it, too, a draw.

Their friendly competitions had ended when Kris had left. And then Lu Han. And then Tao. Kyungsoo still remembers the crushing numbness from the days afterward; the only emotion able to steal in was a sick feeling of dread as they all wondered if they would lose one more, and then another, and then another. Junmyeon had shrunken into himself, guilt hanging over his head like a thundercloud. Kyungsoo wonders if he still blames himself for them leaving. He wonders if he blames himself for EXO disbanding. 

It had taken them a long time to ease back into the swing of things. But things had really never been the same again. He can’t recall the last time he did karaoke with Baekhyun and Chanyeol. 

Baekhyun screeches his way through a rendition of  _ Tears _ , eyes sparkling. Kyungsoo laughs so hard there are almost tears in his eyes. Seohyun — who has a beautiful voice — sings  _ You Are My Everything _ ; Chanyeol looks at her with such fondness in his gaze that Kyungsoo feels his heart shatter into finely ground pieces. It starts raining. Kyungsoo sings  _ For Life _ . Baekhyun meets his eyes and smiles, gentle. 

  
  
  
  


On his way home Kyungsoo again stares down at their old group chat. The last text had been from Baekhyun, just an emoji of a bear, a dancer, and a heart, in response to something Jongin had said — Jongin, who is now teaching full-time at a studio he had opened in Suncheon. 

He steels himself.  _ Sorry I missed your birthday, Minseok hyung _ , he types.  _ I hope you had a good time. _

It’s mere seconds before his phone buzzes. Baekhyun.  _ Happy late birthday hyungie!! ^-^ _

Then Chanyeol. Then Jongin. Then Sehun. An hour later when he checks again are messages from Yixing and Junmyeon and Jongdae. 

Finally Minseok says,  _ Thank you all! I’m coming back to Korea soon, by the way. We should meet.  _

_ We should meet. _

_ We should meet. _

_ We should meet _ , Minseok had said, as though it were the most normal thing in the world. Like that was just something that the nine of them did. And for the first time in what feels like ages Kyungsoo admits to himself that he misses them. He misses being slumped half asleep in the practice room with a bottle of water in his hand, watching Jongin coach Baekhyun through some of the steps in their new choreo. He misses seeing Minseok and Jongdae both hunched over thick stacks of paper and scowling, passing a highlighter hand to hand like it’s a cigarette. He misses waking up in the middle of the night to see Chanyeol in the bed next to him, fast asleep, pillow imprint on his cheek.

Who is he without them? He can make a name for himself as Do Kyungsoo all he wants, but no matter where he goes EXO’s D.O. will always follow him. Maybe he doesn’t need EXO the group the way he used to. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need EXO the people. 

  
  
  
  


“I was thinking about something,” Chanyeol says. There’s a sound of shuffling through the phone. Kyungsoo lays his head back onto the pillow. “So I was in the studio, the other day, and found a folder full of the stuff we came up with back in the old days. Listen to this.” Kyungsoo obliges; the strains of  _ Heart to Heart  _ fill his left ear.  _ Heart to Heart  _ was one they’d co-written right after the 2016 MAMAs. Chanyeol had been humming the bare bones of the melody on their way back and had dragged him into the studio so they could get as much done as possible before they got to the point where they could barely keep their eyes open, still in their suits and makeup. “It’s good, isn’t it? We did good.” 

Kyungsoo doesn’t disagree. All of their tracks had been good. They’d been good, but they’d never gone anywhere outside the walls of Chanyeol’s studio, minus the snippets Chanyeol had, on occasion, played in his VLives. It’s like they were destined to be stuck in his computer forever. He picks at a stray thread on the bottom of his shirt. 

“So, I was thinking, if you weren’t too busy” — there’s the loud creak of Chanyeol settling into a chair; Kyungsoo winces — “whoops, sorry about that, anyway, if you weren’t too busy, you could come in and we’d rework some of these? I listened to them all and I have a few favorites, but obviously I want your input too.” 

Kyungsoo pulls. The thread unravels. “But why?” 

Chanyeol gets that tone in his voice, the one he uses because he thinks it has a better chance of getting Kyungsoo to agree to something. Kyungsoo doesn’t bother telling him that he’d do pretty much anything Chanyeol asked regardless of how he sounded while he asked it. “What is the one thing both of us wanted to do more than anything the entire time we were in EXO?” 

“Sleep?”

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol whines. 

“Do you mean,” Kyungsoo says, “a sub-unit? The two of us?” He inhales sharply. “You want us to make music.” 

“I do,” Chanyeol says carefully. “Is that… okay?”

“Text me the address,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m coming over.”  

  
  
  
  


In two weeks, sound.wave releases its first mini album,  _ lost _ . Kyungsoo is bombarded from every side with headlines screaming  _ EXO’s Former Members Chanyeol and D.O. Collab as sound.wave In the Hottest Album You Will Ever Hear! _ and  _ Here’s Why lost Should Take Home 2026 Album of the Year! _ It’s much preferable to the articles upon articles dissecting EXO’s decision to disband from five years ago. 

“‘ _ lost _ is a masterpiece from beginning to end; the title track — a smooth, lyrical song called  _ all mine  _ that showcases Kyungsoo’s incredible runs — hooks you in and the rest of the album does not let you go,’” Baekhyun reads. “‘It’s hard to pinpoint what, exactly, makes this mini such a resounding success. Is it Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s remarkable ear for melody? Is it their golden vocals? Is it, perhaps, the chemistry between them that jumps and crackles in every line sung — especially so in  _ i’m sure _ , a quiet masterpiece about finding love in familiarity that is arguably the best song in the tracklist? Or a combination of all three?’” He pauses, grinning. “Kyungsoo. How do you feel?” 

“Amazing,” Kyungsoo admits. He’s spread flat on Baekhyun’s bed, wearing nothing but a shirt and some underwear. “Really fucking good, Baekhyun.”

“And what does Do Kyungsoo himself think of  _ i’m sure _ ?” 

“It’s my favorite,” Kyungsoo says. It’s true.  _ i’m sure  _ was one he’d written, a long time ago, and it had meant to be more pop-sounding — until Chanyeol had said no and stripped it down so it was just the two of them and their vocals weaving in and out one another over an acoustic guitar. He’d loved it then and he loves it even more now.

They had argued, at first. Kyungsoo doesn’t even remember what about, but he does remember being afraid that they’d have to scrap the whole thing before it even began. And then Kyungsoo had said something, or maybe Chanyeol had said something, and they’d laughed, and laughed, and laughed and Kyungsoo had leaned forward and said, “I missed this. I missed you.” 

“Then let’s do this shit,” Chanyeol had said, and they’d come out of the other side, several cups of coffee and maybe some tears later, with a mini album. A masterpiece. It wasn’t EXO-CD or EXO-DY or whatever combination of their names SM would have come up with, but it was theirs.

Minseok had texted them a congratulations and added, at the end,  _ I’ll be there in three days. Clear your schedules. No excuses will be accepted, not even from you, Yixing.  _

“I’m surprised you two didn’t release it on the eighth,” Baekhyun is saying. 

Kyungsoo replies, “EXO didn’t do this. We did.” 

  
  
  
  


“Not to make this overly sentimental,” Jongdae says, raising a glass, “but remember when Baekhyun announced to the whole world that Sehun has the biggest dick out of all of us?” 

“I’ll drink to that,” Sehun says cheerfully. 

“You vastly overestimate the number of interested viewers,” Baekhyun says. “My turn.” He takes a careful sip of his wine, clearly thinking. “Remember when Chanyeol’s nickname was three minutes and one second?” 

Seohyun snorts. Loudly. Kyungsoo doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

“I hate you all, but you, Byun Baekhyun, I hate you in particular,” Chanyeol intones. “Remember when Kyungsoo —”

They all groan simultaneously, all but Chanyeol and Kyungsoo and Seohyun. 

“Please,” Yixing says. “I flew from China for this. Please just talk about anyone else.” Seohyun and Kyungsoo lock eyes. She smiles, eyes sparkling, and Kyungsoo fights the urge to bolt.

“Remember,” Chanyeol says loudly, ignoring them all, “when Kyungsoo and I released  _ the _ ” — he slams his drink onto the table — “greatest mini album to  _ ever _ exist?” 

“Please clap,” Baekhyun says in a stage whisper, and they all laugh.    
“It was good,” Junmyeon says. “Although, I am a bit surprised that it happened in the first place.”

“What do you mean?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“I mean,” Junmyeon says, leaning forward, “let’s all be real here. After April 2021, it took months before none of us talked to each other anymore. All that bullshit about us always being one or whatever… I mean, I genuinely thought we were done and over with. And then you,” he continues, pointing at Kyungsoo, “texted us. All of us. All at once. When was the last time that happened? Fast forward to a couple  _ hours _ later, and all of a sudden we’re making plans to meet and the two of you find time to release music. Good music, not some sloppy ‘the fans will like knowing we remember each other’s names’ kinda stuff.” Kyungsoo feels a headache incoming. “Actually, I don’t think surprised is quite the right word for it. Out of all us, it makes sense that it was you and Chanyeol. Isn’t it always you and Chanyeol?” 

Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to say.  _ Isn’t it always you and Chanyeol? _ He’s done nine movies and dozens of interviews and press releases and spent almost five years training himself out of thinking about Chanyeol. They’re not “Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, two of the closest members of EXO” anymore. They’re just Chanyeol, and just Kyungsoo, and just Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, and it had been far too easy for him to convince himself that without EXO there between them — even in the trainee days when it had existed as merely a concept hovering somewhere in the near future — they really had nothing in common. It had been good, for over a decade, but that decade was done and over with and it wasn’t coming back. EXO wasn’t coming back. 

Coming face to face with Chanyeol had been a hurricane tearing through his carefully constructed palace of lies. They had never been something that could be shoved into a box and forgotten about. With Chanyeol everything was a thousand times more real, a thousand times more in his face. Chanyeol isn’t just anyone, he’s  _ Chanyeol _ , and since the beginning of time there has been a space in his heart carved out for him and only for him. Kyungsoo needs him like he needs to breathe.

“Remember when,” Junmyeon begins, but Kyungsoo suddenly stands. He feels the words crawling up his throat and into his mouth, and in their face he turns tail and runs.

  
  
  


 

Baekhyun finds him sitting on a bench outside the restaurant. He says nothing at first, simply sits down beside him and puts an arm around his shoulders. They sit and stare at the streetlights in silence in their masks and caps. Kyungsoo takes his cap off and puts his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder, under his chin. 

“It feels like all I’ve done my whole life is run away,” Kyungsoo eventually says. “And now I’m backed into a corner. I’ve run out of time.” 

“What do you want?”

“I want him to be happy,” Kyungsoo says. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. More than anything.” He straightens and runs a hand through his hair. “Have you seen the way he looks at Seohyun? I got what I wanted. And so did he.” 

Baekhyun crosses his arms. “What about you? Are you happy?”

Kyungsoo’s mouth twists into a smile. “No. But I will be. I just want him in my life, Baekhyun — those years without him were hell, as much as I pretended they weren’t, and now that he’s back I’m never going to let him go. It doesn’t matter what role he plays in my life. We were friends then and we’ll be friends now, and damn if I’ll complain about it.” He shrugs. “It’s my own fault. I thought about it so many times when we were younger; every time I made him laugh, every time we sang together, every time we shared a bed. I always thought I’d have the luxury of more time. I was always waiting for the ‘perfect moment’ and I missed all the right ones that went straight past my head. I’m not going to blame him for where I failed.” 

“You know you deserve that happiness too,” Baekhyun says softly. 

“I know,” Kyungsoo says. “I’ll just have to find my happiness elsewhere.” 

  
  
  
  


There’s that awful moment when he walks in and everyone’s eyes turn to him. Seohyun is still smiling, but there’s an edge of understanding to her gaze. How is it possible that everyone knows but for the one person he wishes would figure it out most? How is it possible that Chanyeol can see every facet of him so clearly but can’t recognize the train wreck that is his feelings for him?

“Oh good,” Jongin says, patting the seat beside him, “you’re back.”

Kyungsoo sits.

“He was feeling a little sick there for a second,” Baekhyun says, shaking his head. “His alcohol tolerance has definitely decreased over the years. Might even be lower than mine now.” 

This makes Kyungsoo snort, and Baekhyun shoots him a grin. 

“Chanyeol said he has something important to announce, but he wanted to wait until you were back,” Junmyeon says, glancing at Kyungsoo. “Another new album?”

“Nothing like that,” Chanyeol says, fidgeting. Kyungsoo gets a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I actually, um…” He glances at Seohyun, holding out his hand. “Baby?”  

They stand. Kyungsoo swallows. 

“So,” Chanyeol says, “as you guys know, um, Seohyun and I have been dating for a few months now.” He smiles down at her. “I think she’s pretty amazing. She’s kind, and smart, and beautiful, and makes a mean omelette.” Seohyun is blushing. “Seriously,” Chanyeol says, talking to her now, “you’re incredible, and I’m so, so lucky to have you. I want” — the tenderness in his voice steals into Kyungsoo’s chest and squeezes his heart tight tight tight — “to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Chanyeol drops to one knee. Baekhyun’s fingers find Kyungsoo’s wrist and wrap around it. 

“Kim Seohyun,” Chanyeol says, “will you marry me?” 

She says yes. Of course she says yes. Kyungsoo has seen the way she looks at Chanyeol. She loves him, and he cannot blame her for that. He cannot blame her for anything. He has only himself to point fingers at. 

There’s so much noise. Kyungsoo looks away before he has to see Chanyeol kiss her, but he claps like the rest of them. When he looks back, Chanyeol is smiling hesitantly at him. He smiles back.

  
  
  
  


“Eat my fucking ass,” Baekhyun says. “You broke ass piece of shit, grow the fuck up.” Beside him, Sehun roars with laughter. “Don’t you laugh, Oh Sehun. You’re the one who got me into this goddamn mess.” He lets out a wordless screech. 

Kyungsoo shakes his head, turning a page in his book. He’s had plenty of practice trying to read through Baekhyun’s yelling. Not that Sehun is any quieter — he just flips out on a less frequent basis than Baekhyun does. 

They’ve scattered a bit since that night in April. Yixing is back in China, working on yet another top-secret project, and Junmyeon is in America doing a fucking Broadway musical. Jongin is back in Suncheon, having successfully extracted promises from all eight of them that they would come visit his studio sometime in the near future. But this time, there are texts to fall back on. Sometimes Jongin even calls, cycling through them until he finds someone who isn’t busy just because he wants to hear their voices. 

“If you don’t stop yelling you get no alcohol,” Chanyeol threatens. He hands Kyungsoo a piña colada that he accepts gratefully. 

“What are you, my mother?” Baekhyun asks, but he quiets. Somewhat. It’s good enough for Kyungsoo. “Oh, this shit is good. Thanks.” 

He and Chanyeol have been spending more time in the studio together, working on making new music. It was amazing that  _ lost _ had been such a hit, but it was mostly full of recycled songs. Although, Kyungsoo has been trying to stay away from songwriting; everything he’s putting down tends to be melodramatic lyrics about pain and heartbreak. Chanyeol, on the other hand, writes bubbly love songs, and Kyungsoo has to force himself to trace a path back through his memory and relive happy nights with Chanyeol to deliver them the way he wants in the demos. But Chanyeol is Chanyeol and he notices something is off; thankfully, he doesn’t press the issue. 

Kyungsoo makes his way to the kitchen to put the glass into the dishwasher. Chanyeol intercepts him halfway there and wrestles the glass from his hands. 

“You know what I think?” he asks, pausing to press a kiss to the top of Seohyun’s head; she’s standing in front of their open fridge, looking deep in thought. “We should press pause on trying to churn out another album right after the first and maybe make a music video for one of the tracks on  _ lost _ .” 

“What kind of vibe are you looking for?”

Chanyeol shrugs. “We’ll figure it out.” Apparently, the music video — like  _ lost _ — won’t be like the carefully pre-planned stuff they’d put out as EXO. He has to admit he kind of likes the spontaneity, the way their music bursts into existence. 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, bracing his hands on the counter. Music is the only topic he can broach with Chanyeol that doesn’t make him want to crawl into a hole and die. “I’m feeling a little tired. Do you guys mind if I turn in early?” 

“‘Course not,” Chanyeol says. “Guest bedroom is down the hall and right around the corner. First door on your left.” 

“Thank you so much,” Kyungsoo says. Ending every conversation with Chanyeol makes him feel like he’s fleeing. Maybe he is. 

He grabs his book on the way. The bedroom is blissfully quiet, even though he can occasionally make out the faint refrains of Baekhyun’s cursing. When he sees the pile of stuffed animals sitting on the bed, many of them Rilakkuma dolls, he has to smile, remembering Chanyeol’s once all-consuming obsession with them. 

He shifts one of the stuffed toys aside and finds a giraffe. It’s worn out, but he would recognize it anywhere; it’s the one he’d bought for Chanyeol’s

birthday back when EXO Showtime (may it rest in peace) was still airing. A part of him can’t believe that Chanyeol still has this. He’d been so upset when Chanyeol hadn’t been able to recognize the gift as his. Maybe Chanyeol has just always been oblivious, or maybe Kyungsoo has just never been loud enough. 

It’s then and there that the sobs he’s been holding in since March, maybe longer, come. He clutches the giraffe in his hands and cries, and cries, and cries. Seohyun finds him there. 

She sits beside him and puts a soft hand on his shoulder. “Kyungsoo.” 

He closes his eyes and wills the tears to stop. There’s no point in crying. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Sorry to bother you.” 

“You love him,” she murmurs, rubbing his shoulder.

“I love him,” he agrees, voice breaking, “so much.”

She shifts away, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Kyungsoo says. “Don’t apologize for being in love with him. You did nothing wrong. He makes you happy and you make him happy.” He smiles. “He really does love you, you know. You make a good couple.” 

She puts a hand on his cheek and rises. “Thank you,” she murmurs, kissing his forehead. “Thank you.”

  
  
  
  


They film the music video for  _ all mine _ over the course of three days. There’s an easy familiarity to it all, to the bustle of makeup artists and camera crew, to mouthing along to the song alongside Chanyeol. The two models they’d hired — Minseo and Jia — are delightful, even if they both tower over Kyungsoo. 

The color palette is neutral. They dress Kyungsoo and Chanyeol in shades of beige, warm coffee colors that remind him of the  _ Universe _ MV. Chanyeol’s hair gets even curlier and messier for the shoot. 

In between takes, Kyungsoo studies a script. He’d recently picked up the pilot for a drama series about an agent-in-training with a propensity for cursing. There’s enough touches of comedy in it to keep it from getting too bogged down by questions of immorality and death; it’s like  _ Kingsman _ meets  _ Jason Bourne _ with a touch of  _ Game of Thrones _ . (Kyungsoo, personally, had hated the Jason Bourne movies.) It’s a good excuse for avoiding conversation with Chanyeol, but Kyungsoo also hates walking into table reads without being completely and utterly prepared, and he has one next week. 

Things are slowly settling back to normal, even if it is a better normal. The novelty of having resumed communication has worn off, and now it’s just them taking shots at each other in between designing clothing and modeling and teaching dance classes to seven-year-olds. 

DAY-Z’s music is currently everywhere the way NCT’s was and the way Red Velvet’s was and the way EXO’s was, a long, long time ago. Sometimes when he hears 으르렁 (because for whatever reason people are  _ still _ listening to it) he gets a rush of nostalgia so intense it almost floors him. 

“Hey,” Chanyeol says, sitting his ass down beside him. 

“Your shoe’s untied,” Kyungsoo says, not looking up. Chanyeol curses under his breath and leans down to tie his laces. 

“Thanks for doing all this with me,” Chanyeol says. There’s the color of happiness in every inch of him, from the flush of his cheeks to the twinkle in his gaze. Kyungsoo’s not sure how it’s possible to feel so happy and horrible at the same time. “I know it’s not the same as it was back when we were all a thing, but it’s good.” He waves a hand at all the equipment around them. “This is good.” 

“It’s good for you,” Kyungsoo says, capping his highlighter. “You’re happiest when you’re making music and sharing it.” 

“When are you happiest?” Chanyeol asks. His dimple is prominent in his cheek. 

Kyungsoo shakes his head. He’s been getting asked that question too many times lately. It’s becoming too hard for him to pretend not to know the answer. “I don’t know yet,” he replies, “but that’s okay. I’ll figure it out. I have time.” 

They sit in silence. It’s their most comfortable silence yet. Kyungsoo pretends to read lines, but he’s really just sitting there hyper-aware of Chanyeol’s proximity. 

“Can I be honest?” Chanyeol says. “If you were to ask me today to go back in time and stop us from ever splitting I would say yes in a heartbeat. I miss EXO, Soo — not all of it, of course, not watching Jongin pop painkillers every night or being so restricted in terms of diet or staying up until the fucking sun came back up because we were so jet lagged, but… That rush we got when we stepped on stage. All those people with  _ our _ name on their lips. Us. A group. A unit.”

“One,” Kyungsoo says. 

“One,” Chanyeol agrees. “Fuck what everyone else thinks, or thought; we were a family. I had you guys, and you guys had me. And now…” 

“We still have each other,” Kyungsoo says firmly. “It’s just different now. We grew up.” 

“Grew up,” Chanyeol repeats. 

“Yes, we grew up,” Kyungsoo says. “Nothing to do but move on.”   
  
  
  


 

One of sound.wave’s tracks is playing in the background. There aren’t that many people here, mostly close friends and family — he spots Yoora, who he waves to. Mama Park finds him as he’s loading his plate up with some 떡볶이.

“Hello, Kyungsoo,” she says, taking her own plate. “I’ve missed seeing you with my son.” 

“I’d missed your son,” Kyungsoo says carefully.

Mama Park gives him a shrewd look. “I can imagine.” She puts a hand on his back and leads him away from where the food is. “What do you think of his fianceé?” 

“I like Seohyun,” Kyungsoo says. He’s blushing. “I really do, I promise.” It’s always been impossible for him to keep anything from Chanyeol’s mother; she knows him about as well as she knows her own son. So even she has figured out what Chanyeol apparently cannot.

Seohyun had enlisted his help in making a birthday cake for Chanyeol. “He talks about how good a cook you are all the time,” she had said, laughing as he’d groaned. “Don’t worry, my expectations aren’t too high.” 

Seohyun owns a bakery. Her cake decorating skills are off the charts. Kyungsoo is insanely jealous; if he didn’t love acting and performing so much he figures his dream job would be drawing flowers and dancers with icing. 

There’s a screech of feedback, and Kyungsoo and Mama Park wince in tandem. Chanyeol apologizes thrice, voice booming, and then says into the mic, “I just… wanted to thank you all for coming. Thank you especially for your wonderful gifts.” There’s a smattering of laughter. “I have good news and bad news. Bad news is this isn’t the last time I’m going to ask you to all to come celebrate with me. Good news is that the next time will be a wedding, which means insane amounts of food.” Kyungsoo eats his 떡볶이 as Mama Park rubs his arm. “That’s right, Seohyun and I have finalized the date. You’ll get your official invitations soon, but as of now I just want you all to know that we hope to see you with us on June twelfth.” 

He floats through the rest of the party, sticking to the outskirts and alternating between eating his feelings and watching Chanyeol make rounds. He’s glowing like he has the entire sun contained in him. At some point he’s roped into a karaoke battle with a very tipsy Jongin and a very sober Junmyeon, one he wins easily because Jongin looks like he’s on the verge of falling over the whole time and Junmyeon looks like he’s on the verge of bursting into tears the whole time. 

Seohyun asks him to stay afterwards to help clean, so he does. He likes her too much to say no to her. They scrub dishes and make inappropriate jokes — her humor is on the same wavelength as his, thankfully — and Kyungsoo feels better than he has in a long time. Seohyun flicks some sudsy water into his face and he wipes his wet gloves on her neck and then they’re having a water fight, slip-sliding on the floor as they try to retaliate and laughing so hard they fail to make any progress.

Chanyeol is drunk. At some point, he starts crying, in the corner with the little music box in his hands filling the air with its gentle music. Kyungsoo gets an intense feeling of deja vu. When Seohyun tries to comfort him, he shakes his head and looks straight at Kyungsoo. 

With a sigh, Kyungsoo wipes his hands clean. He sits next to Chanyeol, who crowds him against the wall and his body. This close, Chanyeol is still pretty, even though he’s been crying and his eyes are puffy and his lips are kind of chapped. Kyungsoo wishes it wasn’t the case, but distance can’t do much in the face of Chanyeol’s beauty.

“I don’t wanna grow up,” Chanyeol says in a thick voice. “Don’t wanna grow up.” Kyungsoo snakes an arm around his waist and rests his head on top of Chanyeol’s. “It’s the last thing I want.”

“Chanyeol—”

“Kyungsoo,” he interrupts. “Kyungsoo.” He buries his face in Kyungsoo’s neck, and Kyungsoo can feel his lips move against his skin when he says, “I miss you. My best friend. Come back to me.” 

Kyungsoo rubs a hand down his back. “I’m right here.”

“No,” Chanyeol says sadly. He closes his eyes. “You’re not.” 

  
  
  
  


Because Kyungsoo has the shittiest luck out of anyone on the entire planet, it’s halfway between the grocery store and his apartment when a car rams into his and he ends up in the hospital. It’s his birthday in a week, damn it. 

Thankfully, he’s just bruised up and will be out of the hospital by the next morning. He’s sitting and reading an old copy of  _ Harry Potter  _ when Chanyeol barges into his room, holding—

“Are those flowers?” Kyungsoo asks. “Really?” 

Chanyeol makes a noise that sounds halfway between an air horn and a dying seal. “You’re okay?”

“Of course I’m okay,” Kyungsoo says, snorting. “Please don’t tell me you rushed all the way here because you thought I was lying on this bed dying.”

Chanyeol flushes. “I didn’t  _ rush _ .” He puts the flowers on the bedside table and sits carefully in a chair. “Hi. I’m glad you’re not too fucked up.” 

“Hi,” Kyungsoo replies, “I’m glad, too.” 

“Do you think,” Chanyeol says, eyeing him, “they’d kick me out if I climbed on there with you?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo says. Chanyeol does it anyway. 

“Am I the only person who came?” 

“You’re the only person who’s in the country apart from Jongin,” Kyungsoo points out. “And I told him if he dropped everything at Suncheon to come here just because my ribs were a little bruised up I’d never answer any of his calls again.” 

Chanyeol is quiet. He reaches for Kyungsoo’s hand and holds it gingerly, grip loose. “I thought… never mind.” 

“You can tell me anything,” Kyungsoo says, fighting the urge to yank his hand from Chanyeol’s grasp. “I’m serious. We’re best friends, remember?”

“It’s nothing,” Chanyeol says. “When they called me—”

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that, I forgot to take you off my emergency contacts—”

Chanyeol glares. “Fuck you, you better not  _ ever _ take me off. I don’t want to be the last person to learn that you’re here bleeding out to death, which, by the way, is what I thought had happened.” 

“You’re so stupid,” Kyungsoo says fondly. “Maybe next time, you should actually  _ listen _ to what they’re trying to tell you.” 

Squeezing his hand, Chanyeol says, “I freaked out, okay? I thought when I was going to get here, I’d see you this close to fucking  _ dying _ — stop laughing, it’s not funny —” He stops, quiets. “I don’t want to lose you. Not again… Soo, your ears are red.” 

“Sorry?”

“No, I don’t — it’s not — look, when we split up, I figured that out of everyone the two of us wouldn’t quit talking. At least. So why did we? I know the both of us could come up with a thousand bullshit reasons right here and now — no time, not the right moment, whatever — but the truth is we didn’t try hard enough. None of us did.”

“Until  _ you _ called me,” Kyungsoo says. 

“I mean,” Chanyeol says, “you were the one who sent the first text.”

“What’s your point, Chanyeol?”  _ Isn’t it always you and Chanyeol? _

“My point is that I’m not about to make the same mistakes,” Chanyeol answers. “My point is that I’m going to do my hardest not to let you go again, but I need reciprocation. You said it yourself, Soo, we’re best friends. We don’t have to rebuild our relationship; those three years were a hiatus and nothing more. So why are you still so distant?” 

Kyungsoo swallows. This is all too complicated for him. He wants to be home, with his dogs, eating Chinese food and not worrying about navigating through conversations with Chanyeol. He wants to be back in EXO, shuffled back and forth between filming and concerts, half asleep through all of it.

_ Isn’t it always you and Chanyeol?  _ Kyungsoo says, “All of this… it’s still unfamiliar to me. Maybe you’re not the only person who doesn’t want to move on.” 

  
  
  
  


Every single one of the near one hundred kids that Jongin teaches is fucking adorable, and Kyungsoo has to resist the urge to just scoop the lot of them up in his arms and run away. Jongin is clearly in his element here, with a five year old on his lap and a smooth beat playing in the background, the both of them clapping along to a crowd of small bodies “dancing.” Everything is far too noisy, but Kyungsoo loves it. 

They’d all collectively agreed that no matter what, they would always, always meet for birthdays. Half of them could be on the other side of the world — and they often were — but they’d find some time for gifts and a celebration. That was nine times a year, as Minseok had so succinctly put it, for them to have to exist around each other without one of them getting punched in the face. 

“Not that I want to punch any of you in the face,” Minseok had finished, and they’d all snickered. 

Baekhyun is in the middle of smearing cake all over Jongin’s cheeks (the facial ones, at least for now) when Seohyun texts him. 

_ Hey _ , she says,  _ can you tell Chanyeol to call me back? He’s not answering and the florist is here and he wants an answer now :< _

_ Chanyeol likes roses _ , he texts back.  _ He’s a classic romance kind of guy. In all honesty I think he’ll like anything you pick, but I’d go for a lot of red if you want to cater to his tastes.  _

_ Oh… thank you ^-^ _

_ No problem. Feel free to yell at me if he hates what you picked. He won’t, though.  _

June twelfth is less than three months. Three months before he has to show up there and watch Chanyeol get married to a beautiful, smart woman in a white dress and veil. Kyungsoo watches Chanyeol laugh, loud and boisterous, at something Sehun says, and thinks he might just be getting close to being okay. 

  
  
  
  


Baekhyun straightens Kyungsoo’s tie, then grabs onto his shoulders and says, “You’re gonna be okay.”

“I’m going to be okay,” Kyungsoo says, nodding. 

There’s a lot of white and red everywhere. Thick velvet drapes cover the windows, and each table is set with a dozen red roses. It makes Kyungsoo smile. There are technically going to be two ceremonies — the one today, and the more traditional Korean one tomorrow. No one really minds because it just means twice the food. 

“I mean,” Baekhyun says, “today’s the day you let it all go, yeah? You congratulate that motherfucker on being a married man — which is weird enough as it is without the added part where you love him — and then poof! All of those feelings, gone.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says wryly. 

Baekhyun grins. “But you’re gonna be okay.”

“I think,” Kyungsoo says, “after all of this is done and over with, I really will be.” He tugs at his tie. “Um… How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” Baekhyun says. He squeezes Kyungsoo’s shoulders. “Seriously, man, you look good enough that if this were a movie Chanyeol would drop everything and realize he was making a huge mistake and run away with you.” When Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, he said, “In all seriousness, you look great. And because I’m part best friend, part psychic, I know for a fact that one day — hopefully soon — you’re gonna meet someone amazing and talented and funny and you’re gonna love them so much you’re gonna forget about Chanyeol’s entire existence.”

“This is you being serious?” Kyungsoo asks, but Baekhyun isn’t looking at him anymore.

“Kyungsoo?” says Chanyeol. He’s dressed in a suit darker than his eyes. He’s cut his hair, too, and all but one chunk of it is swept back from his forehead. He looks really, really good. Kyungsoo can’t wait to be free.

“Oh shit,” Baekhyun says. “Uh… how long have you been standing there?” 

“Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol says again. His voice cracks over Kyungsoo’s name, and Kyungsoo starts shaking his head. He’s not doing this.

“No,” Kyungsoo says firmly. “Don’t say it. Don’t say anything. Just… don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.” 

“But—”

“You look very handsome,” Kyungsoo interrupts, smiling. “Now go. I’ll be right beside you. I always will.”

  
  
  
  


Chanyeol is nervous. Kyungsoo holds onto his elbow, keeping him grounded, and makes sure never to look at his face. Just a few more hours, he thinks. Just a few more hours. Kyungsoo catches Baekhyun’s eyes as he and the rest of the groomsmen — Jongin and Junmyeon and Jongdae and Minseok and Yixing and Sehun, all dressed up and pretty — file in. For whatever reason, Baekhyun looks almost as nervous as he can tell Chanyeol is. 

There’s a collective sigh as Seohyun walks in on her father’s arm. Kyungsoo’s eyes widen and he thinks, simply,  _ wow _ . She looks… stunning. Wherever the light falls on her it catches on the touches of glitter speckled across her skin, but the brightest glow is in her face and eyes. She looks every bit the perfect bride and more. 

Chanyeol grabs onto his pinky so tight he’s afraid it might break. 

He can’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears. He can’t hear anything, but he knows Chanyeol’s voice is shaking through his vows more so than Seohyun’s is. He watches Chanyeol’s mouth shape around his “I do.” Two little words, but they mean so much to both him and Kyungsoo. All eyes turn to Seohyun then, and she says, “No.” 

Everything falls sharply back into focus. The silence stretches, infinite, before it’s broken by the start of the confused murmurs. Kyungsoo still can’t look at Chanyeol, but he feels his heart inching its way up his chest. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to make a scene, but,” Seohyun says, taking a step back, “this needs to be said.” Chanyeol opens his mouth, but she doesn’t let him speak. “No. I don’t doubt that you love me, Chanyeol. I know that you do. But your heart,” she says, placing a palm flat on his chest, “your heart doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to someone else. It’s always belonged to someone else.” Chanyeol’s eyes find his, and there they stay. The rest of the world falls away but for Seohyun’s words. “I love you. But I don’t — I  _ can’t _ — love you the way he loves you, or the way you love him.” Seohyun smiles, and steps aside. “Chanyeol. Do what you’ve always been meant to do.” 

Nobody moves. Rolling her eyes, Seohyun grabs Kyungsoo’s wrist and pulls him forward. “Don’t make this any more awkward than it already is,” she says, pinching his cheek. 

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol whispers, and suddenly his hands are resting in Chanyeol’s. “Soo, you’re shaking.” 

“I don’t…” Kyungsoo has to remind himself to breathe. “I don’t understand.” 

Chanyeol smiles shakily, and says, “Isn’t it always you and me?” 

Chanyeol’s palms are so rough, from all the constant guitar playing and drumming. Whatever Kyungsoo knows about music, a large portion of it comes from Chanyeol. Half of his entire being is stitched from pieces of Chanyeol that he’d shared with him. That he’d trusted him enough to share with him. 

He thinks Chanyeol might be crying. “I love you,” Kyungsoo says, and feels a giant weight lift off his chest. “Wow. I’ve been wanting to say that forever.” He puts a hand on Chanyeol’s cheek. “I want you happy. Is this it?” 

“It was always you,” Chanyeol admits. “Despite everything. I always find myself coming back to you, don’t I? We don’t talk for years but you’re the first person I call. On my bad days, I think of you. On my good days, I think of you. And for so long I tried to push it down and away. I figured we weren’t ever going to get our happy ending, and that was okay.”

“Why not?” Kyungsoo murmurs.

“You’re right,” Chanyeol says. “Why not? Why spend all of that time watching and waiting for the perfect moment, only for it to never come? I was stupid. We were both stupid. We deserve that happy ending. You’re my best friend. My soulmate. And,” he says, kneeling on a knee, “if you’ll have me, then you’ll be my husband, too.” 

The ring. Kyungsoo knows the weight of it on his hand better than he knows himself. It’s just his name, stolen from between Chanyeol’s lips and set into stone so that he would never be without it.

“You kept these,” Kyungsoo says, and at this point he’s definitely crying. 

“Of course I did,” Chanyeol says. “I paid good money for them.” He kisses the ring, and holds it out towards Kyungsoo. “I love you, Do Kyungsoo. I love you more than I thought I could ever possibly love someone. Will you marry me?” 

He says yes. Of course he says yes. It’s been a yes since the day they first met. Chanyeol whispers _your ears are red_ and kisses him so hard he goes dizzy. 

On June 12, 2027, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol finally get their happy ending. Seohyun cheers loudest of all.

  
  
  
  


Each one of Kyungsoo’s days begins the same way. Sometimes the sun peeks in through the window, but usually he wakes before even it does. It doesn’t matter. Chanyeol is always there, next to him, unwilling to let him leave the bed. After a brief period of whining (and maybe cuddles if Kyungsoo has the bit of extra time) Chanyeol eventually lets him go and drags himself out of bed too, shuffling around half-asleep and feeding all three of their dogs. 

Their dogs. Their bed. Their apartment. His Chanyeol, snaking his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist as he tries to make breakfast. His Chanyeol, pressing a kiss to the back of Kyungsoo’s neck. 

Kyungsoo has been asked so many times what makes  _ him _ happy.  _ This is it _ , he thinks as Chanyeol pulls him into a kiss.  _ This is it.  _

**Author's Note:**

> if exo genuinely stop talking when they disband i'll find them and beat their asses personally [twitter](https://twitter.com/odeysseys)


End file.
